


Write Your Name On My Skin

by comtessedebussy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Enochian, Established Relationship, M/M, Marking, Possessive Behavior, Short One Shot, holy oil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comtessedebussy/pseuds/comtessedebussy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants to mark Castiel as his, but to his chagrin, Castiel heals instantly - no bites or bruises or any other marks remain on the angel's skin. That is, until Castiel comes up with an idea for a mark that will stay forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Write Your Name On My Skin

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was totally inspired by a prompt I have to Cami years ago. Two years later, my own version of the story popped into my head and I just had to write it down.

Dean sighed, tracing the spot of red on Castiel’s skin where his lips had been moments before, half-bite, half kiss. The angel’s skin was already smooth and spotless, no mark blooming as it would on Dean’s body.

“Dean?” Castiel asked, his blue eyes piercing, but full of fondness. The angel lay sprawled on his bed, all gorgeous limbs and tousled hair, but it was the features of his face that nearly glowed in Dean’s eyes. “What is it?”

“I can never mark you the way you mark me,” he admitted regretfully. His own skin sported bruises from their lovemaking of the previous night – a set of blue-black spots around his wrists, where Castiel had held them firmly, and more on his hips when Castiel had held him down. Castiel had offered to heal them, but Dean had refused, and Castiel’s eyes had glowed with pride and joy. Neither had wanted the marks to fade earlier than they should.

“Would you like to?” Castiel asked.

“Yes,” Dean admitted honestly. “Just once, I want everyone to see that you’re mine,” he admitted. Here, in the soft light of their room, safe with his angel, the words weren’t so hard to say.

Before Dean could say another word, Castiel disappeared from under him, catching him off balance and leaving him to tumble forward on the bed. He’d only managed to sit back up when Castiel reappeared, carrying an elegant pitcher of distinctly Middle-Eastern design.

“Cas? Is that what I think it is?”

Silently, Castiel nodded. Another elegant move of his hand, and a paper appeared, lines of ink running over it speedily, tracing an intricate design– what looked like sigils and Enochian letters, all intertwined to make a beautiful crest.

“This should leave a mark once you set fire to it,” he explained, “and these are the Enochian figures that would mark me as yours.”

“For how long?” Dean asked, trying to hide the excitement welling up in him, and the desire pooling low in his body at Castiel’s offer. Still, he wasn’t prepared for Castiel’s answer: “Forever.”

“Cas- “ he started to protest, but the angel laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“I have sworn to stay with you forever, if you would have me. Will you?”

“Cas, that’s – that’s – what if you change your mind? And what if the other angels see?”

Castiel smiled. “My brethren have long known that I am yours Dean. My being, my Grace, my heart- they have long been yours, and if I had a soul, it would be yours too. I have no regrets.”

“Will it hurt?” Dean asked, concerned.

“Nothing unbearable,” Castiel said, running his fingers gently over the bruises on Dean’s wrist. “No worse than this.”

“All right. Okay.” Dean tried to temper his excitement, that he would finally get to mark Cas as _his,_ for all the world to see.

“Here.” Castiel touched the pitcher of oil, turning the liquid a brighter yellow. “So you can see,” he explained before settling himself comfortably on Dean’s bed.

Dean didn’t touch the oil right away. He traced the smooth planes of Castiel’s body first – it had once been Jimmy’s body, but Jimmy was long, long gone, his soul in Heaven with Amelia, and this body had long been Castiel’s. He traced the muscles and the curves lovingly, bent down to press a kiss right over the heart.

The design was complicated, but Castiel was patient, waiting and watching as Dean drew the colored liquid over his skin. It looked beautiful, the curves and curliques and other shapes curving over Castiel’s shoulders, curling lovingly over his ribs like a lover’s embrace, catching him in a breathtaking net of obscure shapes that hugged his body.

The design completed, Dean reached for the matches Castiel had brought with the oil. “You’re sure?” he asked a final time, hoping against hope Castiel wouldn’t refuse, not now, not at this moment.

“I’m sure, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was even and sure as always.

He struck the match, and fire bloomed at its tip. He brought it closer to Castiel’s skin, and the oil caught fire, the flames spreading along the design all over his torso. Castiel gasped, throwing his head back and biting his lip.

“Cas?” Dean asked worriedly, momentarily distracted from the play of fire on skin.

Castiel’s eyes fluttered open. “It’s all right, Dean,” he reassured. The flames were already dying out, having consumed the thin trails of oil on his skin. “You can finish.” Glancing down, Dean noticed a few letters – separated from the rest of the design – that had not caught fire, and, even lower, Castiel’s cock, hard and needy. Satisfied, he brought the flame to each one and watched it catch fire. Cas gasped at each one, the sound as soft as the flutter of a bird’s wing, writhing gently beneath Dean’s touch.

Then it was done. Castiel’s skin was red and painfully swollen where the flames had kissed it, but he reassured Dean it would heal soon, leaving nothing but pale scars, spelling Dean’s name on his flesh. He touched one of the red welts gingerly, and Castiel sucked in a breath.

“Dean, _please,_ ” he begged. His cock curved elegantly over his belly, precome on the tip. It practically begged to be touched, and Castiel’s hands clung to the sheets lest they give in.

Dean hadn’t even realized that he’d been hardening slowly at the sight of Castiel, lying so submissively below him and offering his skin, but he noticed now. He reached for Castiel, bringing their lips together for a kiss while his hand fumbled to find Castiel’s erection. The angel’s hand responded in kind, seeking Dean’s hardness and moving along it with delicious, slow strokes.

They moved in unison, Dean thrusting into Castiel’s hand as he stroked Castiel’s cock. Between them, Castiel’s skin glowed with heat, and their breaths mingled, coming in increasingly shorter gasps as both neared their climax.

“Cas, I’m – “ he gasped.

“ _Yes,_ ” Cas breathed, and Dean knew exactly what he meant, and it wasn’t in him to protest.

He came all over Castiel’s stomach and chest, marking him a second time, dirtily and filthily and possessively. Castiel only gasped with pleasure, coming over Dean’s hand and his own stomach, his come mingling with Dean’s.

Below the mess they’d made, the redness and swelling on Castiel’s skin was already fading, but Dean knew the marks would stay. He shuddered in pleasure.

Castiel was _his._


End file.
